I narrowed my eyes and glared at her, but she just smiled back at me. Reaching under the table, I grabbed her plump, sock-clad foot and firmly pushed it away. She rolled her eyes and turned her face aside.
That night, I stayed over. Beibei still refused to share a bed with Annuo, so she took over my room again, forcing me to sleep on the living room couch.
I half-expected Annuo to try something, but after staying vigilant until one in the morning, she never showed up. Guess I was overthinking it.
I really couldn't figure out her intentions. At first, when she flirted with me, I thought she might actually like me. Then she got herself hurt and ended up moving in with us. I assumed she just wanted a home, but she schemed and tore this family apart. Now here, thinking she wanted revenge, she clings to me and says she likes me.
I truly don't understand what she wants, but one thing is certain: you can't trust a word that girl says.
Mom is suspicious of Annuo too, especially after that video, so she usually doesn't allow me to stay overnight at Dad's. But today was an exception—Dad specifically asked for it.
The next evening, when I returned home from tutoring school, Mom had already gotten off work early.
Seeing the assortment of nutritional supplements spread across the coffee table, I knew she'd bought them to help boost my brainpower.
Seeing these nutritional supplements makes me feel a bit queasy—I've had way too many of them over the past few months. At least Mom has learned her lesson and doesn't dare give me any more "yang-boosting" tonics.
"These are all specially bought for you. You've been catching colds a lot lately, probably because you lack exercise. I keep telling you to go out for a walk, but you never do." Mom came out of the bedroom carrying a laundry basket and started nagging again when she saw me rummaging through the supplements on the table.
I really wanted to tell her that these things are practically useless—at best, they just provide a bit of psychological comfort.
But ever since the divorce from Dad, Mom has poured all her energy into my studies. Her enthusiasm is overwhelming, and coupled with the guilt I feel, I simply don't dare voice any objections.
"Any dirty clothes to wash?" she asked, pushing open the door and heading into my bedroom.
"No. I hardly ever leave the house—how could there be any clothes to wash?"
Mom didn't quite believe me. She walked around my room and managed to dig out a piece of clothing that wasn't even that dirty.
On the way back, I'd already felt the urge to pee. After changing into my home clothes in my bedroom, I headed to the bathroom. Mom was standing by the washing machine, pulling out dirty clothes one by one.
As I squeezed past her from behind, I accidentally caught sight of a pair of black pantyhose in her hand. My heart skipped a beat, and for some reason, I stopped in my tracks.
Mom turned to look at me, puzzled. "What are you doing?"
"Going to the bathroom." To hide my awkwardness, I calmly pushed open the bathroom door and went inside.
Just as I pulled out my dick to pee, my phone rang in the living room. Mom quickly slipped on her slippers and hurried out.
After finishing, I shook off and came out to wash my hands. Suddenly, I remembered the black pantyhose, and a wave of restlessness washed over me.
Because of past incidents, Mom guards against me very carefully. Her worn pantyhose and underwear are always hidden away. Today must have been an oversight—she forgot them here.
I peeked outside and saw Mom answering the phone in the living room. A mischievous thought sparked in my mind. After a brief internal struggle, I reached out, found the black pantyhose, and gently stroked them. They felt cool and smooth to the touch. My heart raced wildly, and a wave of heat surged in my crotch. Almost as if possessed, I pressed the pantyhose against my face and took a deep breath.
The feeling was all too familiar, too exhilarating. It was like a long-time addict facing temptation again—immersed in desire yet filled with overwhelming guilt, sinking deeper into a painful struggle.
Even though I knew it was wrong—a betrayal and violation of Mom—the image of her sleeping naked in bed yesterday morning kept flashing through my mind.
I stuck out my tongue and lightly licked the crotch area inside the pantyhose. It felt like an electric shock, sending a thrill from head to toe. My tongue went numb, and I couldn't help but recall the rich, intoxicating scent from between Mom's legs that night.
My dick was rock-hard and aching in my pants. I really wanted to take them off, slip Mom's worn pantyhose over my cock, and give it a good stroke.
But reason told me to stop—this wasn't right.
No!
I took a deep breath and reluctantly put Mom's worn black pantyhose back.
But once the desire in my heart was unleashed, it was like a floodgate opening, pouring out uncontrollably.
I really wanted to pick up the worn pantyhose again and indulge in it, but reason told me I must not make the same mistake again—I had promised Mom.
Just as I was struggling inwardly, I heard Mom's footsteps approaching from a distance, heading toward the bathroom.
Guilty as a thief, a sudden wave of fear washed over me. My crotch was straining against my pants, and without a second thought, I clamped my legs together and squatted down to hide it from Mom.
When Mom came in and saw me squatting by the washing machine, she paused in surprise and asked, "What are you doing here?"
I put on a pained expression and gritted my teeth. "My stomach hurts."
Mom looked down at me with concern. "What's wrong? Did you eat something bad, or catch a chill?"
"It's nothing, probably just a chill. Don't worry about me, I'll just use the bathroom," I replied vaguely, then turned with difficulty and waddled into the bathroom like a duck.
Mom called out a few more words of concern from outside. Feeling guilty, I reassured her it was fine. It took about ten minutes before my erection finally subsided.
Back in my bedroom, I lay face down on the bed, burying my face deep in the pillow.
I felt like an addict who had held out for a long time, only to slip up. My heart was filled with guilt, yet the thrill of that fall was undeniably exhilarating.
Just as I was lost in self-reproach, Mom suddenly pushed open the bedroom door.
Already feeling guilty, I jumped up in fright.
Mom paused, her brow slightly furrowed. "What are you doing?"
"N-nothing."
She seemed to suspect I was up to no good and eyed me suspiciously. "What were you doing in here just now?"
"I wasn't doing anything, just lying down for a bit."
"Shouldn't you be studying? Why are you lying around?"
"I just got over a cold, so I was resting. You scared me."
We stared at each other in silence for a long moment before I asked, "What's going on? Why did you come in?"
"Oh!" Mom seemed to snap back to reality. "Come out for a second. I want to show you something."
"What is it?"
"You'll see when you come out."
As I rolled off the bed, I muttered under my breath, "What's all the mystery? What is it?"
Following Mom to the living room, she pulled a stack of forms from her bag and said, "A colleague of mine has a relative who used to teach at No. 3 High School. Later, she started her own tutoring class, specializing in senior-year exam prep. I went to consult with her today and explained your situation. Look—she even made a personalized study schedule for you."
"A study schedule?" I took it and glanced over it.
Mom pointed at the form and explained, "The teacher said that with only about three hundred days left until the college entrance exam, that's roughly fifty days per subject. Since you didn't build a solid foundation before, you need to use these fifty days to master the basics thoroughly. Understand?"
"Oh, that's all?" I chuckled in relief. "I thought you'd dug up some 'secret study recipe' from the parents' group chat again."
Mom glared at me sideways, froze for a moment, and then her cheeks suddenly flushed—probably remembering last year's incident. She snatched a stack of forms from my hand and gave me a light smack on the head.
After hitting me, she seemed to realize it wasn't quite appropriate. To cover her embarrassment, she quickly pulled out a few forms from the bottom and said to me, "Here's your performance trend chart. I printed it out for you."
"You're really thoughtful," I replied, taking the forms and glancing at them.
"Look, math is your strong suit—your scores are pretty stable. But English is a bit of a problem; your performance fluctuates quite a bit, with a big gap between your highest and lowest scores. And last time during the college entrance exam, it was English that dragged you down."
To explain it to me, Mom leaned in close, her face almost touching mine.
My nostrils were filled with the scent of her perfume, and I could even feel the warmth of her skin. How could I possibly focus on what she was saying?
Seeing me spaced out, Mom nudged me. "Hey, what are you daydreaming about? Did you hear me?"
I quickly snapped back to attention and nodded. "Yes, yes, I heard you. Go on."
"Our goal this semester is to raise and stabilize your English scores. I specifically got you a few practice tests—they're last year's mock exams from the top high school, all designed by renowned teachers." Mom paused for a moment, and when I didn't respond, she glanced at me. "Did you hear me?"
"Yes, yes, I heard you," I said, taking the test papers and flipping through them.
"Last year, there was too much going on at home, and I couldn't focus on studying. This year, you need to buckle down."
"Mom, don't you think you've been a bit obsessed lately?"
"Aren't you aiming for Tsinghua University? If you want to get into Tsinghua, you need that kind of obsession."
I scratched my head and frowned. "I think I might be overestimating myself. With my grades... I don't think I have what it takes."
"No!" Mom scolded in a sharp tone. "How can you back down now? My son is going to Tsinghua—I've already bragged about it to everyone."
Mom was becoming more and more invested in the college entrance exam, and my stress was growing too, to the point where I felt like my hair was about to fall out.
"Alright, I'll do my best."
"Not just your best—you need to have the determination to win."
"Yeah, yeah. Determination! Victory!" I nodded repeatedly.
"But don't put too much pressure on yourself. Mom believes you have the ability." She gently patted my head and said, "First, you need to secure the top spot in your grade."
"Alright, I'll do my best."
"Not 'do your best'—you must."
"But didn't you just tell me not to put too much pressure on myself?"
"No..." Mom widened her eyes and glared at me, finally sighing. "Forget it, you've confused me. Just get the top spot in your grade first."
"Alright, alright, top of the grade. Determination! Victory!"
Since I'd promised Mom, I needed to pour all my energy into studying. But the moment I picked up her worn stockings again, desire surged like a tiger unleashed from its cage, and there was no easy way to lock it back up.
Late at night, lying in bed, I felt restless and overheated, my erection stiff beneath the sheets. Tossing and turning, I couldn't fall asleep.
I held the iron-hard shaft in my right hand, gently stroking it but not daring to pump with force. Guilt and desire intertwined fiercely in my mind, while my mother's graceful figure lingered persistently, like a shadow I couldn't shake off.
Just two nights ago, she had slept naked beside me, and even now, the scent of her mature body seemed to linger in the room.
Just one stroke—just one—or I'd never fall asleep.
But no. Once you start, there's no turning back. If I didn't crush this sinful urge at its root, I'd sink deeper and deeper into the mire.
I spent a restless half of the night in torment before finally giving in to desire. It's just masturbation—what healthy young guy doesn't do it? What's the big deal?
Gripping my cock, I stroked up and down, trying hard to picture the faces of famous celebrities, but my mother's delicate, snow-white features stubbornly dominated my thoughts.
Her full, rounded breasts, slender willow-like waist, soft pink skin, and those long, seductive legs in black stockings.
The most terrifying part was that the image I had deliberately suppressed in my heart surged forth once again.
My flushed, swollen cock pressed against her smooth, bare mound, slowly parting the tender, plump lips of her pussy, inch by inch squeezing into the tight, juicy depths.
A tear in the black stockings revealed her smooth, full mound, a pale expanse without a single pubic hair.
Halfway inside, I felt her pussy was impossibly tender, its pink walls wrapping around and clinging to my shaft, gently sucking and pulsing. With a slight thrust forward, the head of my cock reached the end, slamming hard against the slippery, velvety entrance to her womb.
I spread her stocking-clad legs wide, almost into a straight line, and my rock-hard cock began thrusting in and out of her pale, plump mound.
With each thrust, the fleshy entrance would cave inward; with each withdrawal, it would pull out bits of pink inner flesh. Her sensual, graceful body rocked back and forth under my pounding, her throat emitting sweet, enticing moans and gasps.
"Mmm... mmm... ah... slower... Xiao Dong... slower... Mom can't take it... it's so full... oh..."
"Mom! Mom! Mom!"
Gripping my cock, I sped up my strokes, imagining my rigid shaft thrusting forcefully inside her pussy, my swinging balls slapping against her perineum, my cock churning her smooth, bare mound until juices flowed freely, splattering everywhere with wet, slapping sounds.
"Ah~! Mmm... ah... ah... slower, slower..."
I fucked her so hard she couldn't even form a complete sentence. Her hands clenched the pillow tightly, her delicate neck straining upward, her pale body shuddering violently, her full, rounded breasts bouncing with waves of creamy flesh.
"Mom, does it feel good? Does your son make you feel good?"
"Mmm... it hurts a little... ah... slower..."
"I can't slow down, your pussy is so tight, it's squeezing me to death!"
I lifted her stocking-clad legs onto my shoulders, my hands caressing the cool, silky black stockings as my hard cock plunged wildly in and out of her plump, juicy mound. The sound of our bodies colliding echoed with sharp, crisp slaps, the thick head of my cock pounding repeatedly against the entrance to her womb.
Pleasure built rapidly, and I felt I couldn't hold on much longer. Gripping my cock, I stroked faster and faster, imagining myself holding her stocking-clad legs tightly, thrusting my hips, and driving in and out of her pussy with wild abandon.
"Mmm... I can't... I can't... mmm ah... it's too much... stop for a moment..."
The tender pink walls of her pussy tightened around my cock, suddenly convulsing and pulsing violently, as if trying to suck the entire shaft inside.
Her delicate features twisted in agony, her upper body stiffening as it lifted, her pale form trembling faintly, her two black-stockinged legs wrapping tightly around my back.
"Mom! Mom! I can't hold back either! I'm coming! I'm coming!"
I imagined thrusting my cock deep into the tight, hairless pussy, pressing against the delicate core as thick streams of semen gushed out.
...
After a wave of dizziness, emptiness and guilt washed over me.
I had betrayed Mom. I had betrayed the trust she placed in me!
-------------------
To read Ahead go to my patreon
patreon.com/Satya69
Now join my telegram channel for a chance to get a free membership every month.Check patreon recent post for more information.
This story has 85 chapters in my patreon and many other stories like this.